


Not Really That Long

by victoriousscarf



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-05 03:56:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21206993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/victoriousscarf/pseuds/victoriousscarf
Summary: “I think we need to talk.”





	Not Really That Long

“I think we need to talk,” Neville said and Blaise felt a bit like he had been ambushed, looking up from where he had been getting coffee at a charming little place in middle of nowhere Scotland. 

“Are you following me.”

Neville sat down across from him, arms crossed. “You didn’t give me a lot of choice.”

“You know most people understand the meaning behind someone avoiding them,” Blaise said. “No need for talking, or anything.”

“That’s how you get away with it, isn’t it?” Neville asked, brow raised. 

“Get away with what?” Blaise asked.

“Pretending you don’t care about people,” Neville said and Blaise set his coffee cup down too hard. “You just deflect and avoid and then you never have to worry about getting too close.”

“I’m not in danger of getting too close to you,” Blaise said, bite entering his voice and Neville was still giving him that half considering look. 

“Which is why you kissed me,” Neville said.

“I was drunk,” Blaise waved it off.

“Like hell you were,” Neville said. “You kissed me, at the Christmas party, in front of everyone, and you weren’t nearly drunk enough to pretend that’s all it was. We’ve been working together for months now, Blaise, I’ve figured you out some.”

“Months is not really that long,” Blaise said.

“No,” Neville agreed. “I said to figure you out _some_, not entirely. I’m going to need far more time for that.”

Blaise paused, hand holding the coffee cup a bit too careful now. “More time?”

“Why do you think I bothered to track you down at all?” Neville asked, and he looked _fond_, the bastard. “Just to tell you to fuck off?”

And it was dangerous, to pick up the offer he had just laid down on the table. There was a reason Blaise had all the defenses he did, and only half of them had to do with being a Slytherin after the war. 

But maybe some of Neville was wearing off on him because he lifted the coffee cup again, arching a brow at Neville over its rim. “Alright,” he said, a challenge. “Let’s talk then,” and Neville’s smile was worth it. Maybe it wouldn’t be, in the end, but righ then and there it felt like it was. 


End file.
